A Phone Call Away
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: Bad Boys prequel: D-Dawg kept in touch. (Sonny POV)


**A Phone Call Away**  
K Hanna Korossy

D-Dawg was always the one who called, those couple of years after. First just checking in, saying _thanks_ and _miss you guys_ in his own way. Then sharing that Sam had left, that his old man was hurt, that Sam was back, that the old man was gone. Swallowing back tears and being a man just like when he'd been sixteen. Sonny hurt for him, but he listened, careful not to ask too many questions and shut the kid down.

Then Dean's face was plastered all over the TV saying he'd robbed a bank, killed people, and Sonny was the one who called.

 _"I didn't do it, Sonny, I swear. We were trying to stop the guy who did, and just got caught up."_

He knew how fickle Lady Justice could be, and he believed the kid, even if he knew he wasn't getting the whole story. D called soon after with a new phone number, and Sonny tucked it away.

He called again, after Dean and his brother were declared dead _—"Manhunt Over!"_ —in a helicopter explosion at a police station, of all things. Didn't expect to reach him, but there he was, choked up and not quite right, but alive.

 _"You sure you wanna know the whole truth, man?"_

He thought he did. But ghost-hunting, shapeshifters, _demons?_ The old man's brand of crazy seemed to have rubbed off on his boys, and Sonny was sorry yet again he hadn't fought harder for Dean. The kid knew he didn't believe him, too, but sounded like it just made him sad. He said goodbye like it was the last time.

He didn't answer the phone when Sonny called a few months later.

Then, out of the blue, Dean stopped by one night. Tall and strong, all the promise Sonny had seen in the kid, but with old eyes and a slump in his shoulders from a life that had ridden him hard. He said he was in the neighborhood and Sam was busy so he swung by. Didn't take long to figure out Sammy, D-Dawg's pride-and-joy, had gotten into some bad mojo while his big brother had been away and was hanging out with the wrong crowd. D was looking for advice about rehabbing kids, and Sonny tried to give it. He wasn't sure he succeeded. He hugged Dean hard when he left, and pretended he didn't see how it made the boy's eyes water.

 _"Sammy's gone,"_ was all Dean said a few months later. The kid hung up after delivering the news, his voice dead, and he didn't answer Sonny's calls after that.

Sonny went out in the barn and wiped away a couple of tears after that, too.

A year later, Sam was back. Sonny tried to wrap his head around it, but after Dean said _"family business,"_ he dropped it. Maybe Sonny'd been more right than he'd known when he'd joked about the Mafia. One thing he knew for sure: D wasn't lying. That joy in his voice was the real deal.

The kid called occasionally after that. Sammy wasn't himself, but D was gonna fix it. A father figure for the boys had died, and Dean sounded lost again. Then Sam was okay, which helped.

Oh, and by the way, _"Don't drink any soda, or eat anything, you know, junky for a while, okay? There's something going on with the food supply—just trust me on this."_

He never did get the all-clear on that—when Sonny tried to call, D-Dawg's phone was disconnected, and for once, he didn't call back with a new number.

He missed his Cokes. Missed D more.

And finally, a call the year before.

 _"Hey, man. Sorry it's been so long—I've been…away. But you're never gonna guess: Sam and I finally got a place to put our boots up. In_ Kansas _, believe it or not."_

He could believe it. Few of the boys who'd been on the farm had wanted a home as bad as Dean.

The kid didn't know it, but Sonny had been thinking about packing it in. Courts weren't sending him too many boys anymore, and the farm was barely hanging on. Maybe it was time to call it a day.

But the call reminded him of that sixteen-year-old who'd shown up at his door because he'd stolen food for his kid brother. The one who went from smirking and defiant, to a champion wrestler and A-student. Who only left because his old man and, Sonny guessed even more so, his little brother needed him. Took a few weird turns in his life—Sonny still didn't know what to make of _demons—_ but he was a good man.

He decided to hang in there.

Then things got hinky, and Jack was killed, and Sonny thought of Dean and his ghosts. _Maybe_ …

And he made another call.

 **The End**


End file.
